Loving the Beast
by Teresa Martin
Summary: Sequel to "Monster." How did Rumpelstiltskin and Belle begin again after "The Crocodile?" Explains why it took so long for the hamburger date. Takes place throughout Season Two.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Rumpelstiltskin took the money, put it into the till, bidding the final customer a good night. It was nearing eight, long after he usually kept the store open. He put items into their places, moving into the back-room, where he sometimes slept when he had work to do, or could not bring himself to go to his empty home. Paused. He nearly thought of her. Nearly.

He only had to practice banishing her from his mind about ten times a day. At first it was more than fifty.

That was when he'd decided that he would cut himself completely off, even after agreeing to lunch at Granny's. He could only have a little bit of her with that, and he knew that would only lead to more pain for him. A casual date that would make her happy, and he miserable. Giving her the library was enough. If she hadn't understood that he wanted to be completely finished at first, she did after the disastrous night Ruby locked her up.

The bell rang. Damn. He hadn't turned the sign around to "Closed."

"Just a moment," he called, turned around, and stopped. The curtains had parted and she was there.

Everything he had just been comforting himself with flew out the window, like an alcoholic who finds himself faced with an open bottle of whiskey.

"Belle," he greeted, though his mouth had gone dry. "Is there something I can get for you?"

She put one foot in front of the other, head down, biting her lip. He knew before she spoke that this was not going to be a peaceful evening.

Her head shook. "You know that I'm not looking for anything to buy."

"What then do you want?" He stood up straighter.

Belle met his gaze straight on. "I want to know why you changed your mind about us going for a hamburger."

"They're really bad for you," he quipped. "Lots of cholesterol."

Now she stared. No crying. No running. None of that face-crumbling.

Damn. She'd practiced this.

Probably with Ruby while they were binging on chocolate.

Rumpelstiltskin turned and continued to put things away. "It seemed the best thing to do. Less messy. Not complicated."

"To be my friend?" Belle inquired.

He exhaled so forcefully it was more of a hiss. He threw his last item down, his back still to her. "I can't be your friend, Belle. You know that." He fought to keep his voice steady. "And I most certainly will not be your weekly date over burgers." He turned around and met her eyes. "But you know that too."

She looked away now.

"So why are you here?" he asked.

Now the tears did begin. And the chin trembled.

This was getting dangerous.

"Because I don't want you out of my life," she whispered.

"You left me," Rumpelstiltskin reminded her coldly. The tears began. "Go, Belle," he dismissed, wearily. "Just go away."

She shook her head.

"Please." He was not beyond begging.

"We need to . . ." Belle tried to being again.

"We need to nothing," his voice rose through gritted teeth.

Now she steeled herself, "No." Her eyes met his squarely.

Very well. He had given her the chance. More than enough. It was going to come.

"'No,' until you change your mind, yes, Belle?" Rumpelstiltskin took a dangerous step towards her. "I let you go not once, not twice, but three times, until I had to love you!" He snatched his handkerchief out of his breast pocket and set it in her hand, a little harder than he should have. "And then in the space of a few days, you left me. You had what you wanted, you had my love, and said you'd stay with me after I warned you, and then you left!" He was feeling a little manic. "And you come in here, and tell me once again that you will not go."

"I was wrong," Belle lifted her chin. "It's not as though you've never done or said something you've regretted."

Now the laugh was out of control. "Maybe, but it does not matter. Despite everything I told you, and what you claimed, you were not ready for the Beast. So you left. 'I don't want to see either of you again. Ever,'" he mimicked. His vision was getting blurry. "What did I do to deserve that? So I wasn't ready that morning to bare my soul to you, I'm sorry. But almost losing you changed my mind. I was ready to tell you everything once we got home, swore that if you were saved from what your father was trying to do, I would never deny you anything you wanted to know. But you didn't give me even a minute to tell you that. You just called me a coward and left!"

He took another step towards her. "I never did anything but let you be yourself, except for the few times I asked you not to love me!" Words and tones he had never given her before were spilling out. True honesty. True love. Here it was. "I gave you three chances to stop. THREE, and you kept coming back!" He was actually seeing red. Was that possible? "You do not do that to a person, not to me, not to anyone. Love is not a game!"

He wasn't even sure if Belle was still in the room. "Three times I let you go!" he shouted.

Then Rumpelstiltskin saw that she was there, and tears were pouring down her cheeks. He closed his eyes. "And now, for the fourth time, Belle, I am begging you. Go! Please, go. I can only have one thing from you now, it's too late for anything else, and if you can't give it, you must go!"

"Tell me then!" she demanded. "What can I give? I'm ready now too!"

He took her arms, firmly, but gently, "I want you. Nothing less. My lover, in my home, in my life," he couldn't stop it. "I want you with me completely, I want you in my bed . . . I want . . ." and then his voice broke, he let go and turned away," I want to marry you." Dammit, he was crying now. Why wouldn't she go?

He could hear her heaving sobs, and then somehow she was inches from him. For a moment he hoped she would push him away. Instead her arms reached up and he was embracing her, kissing her. It was hungry, almost violent, gasping, sobbing from both of them.

"I won't go!" she burst out between kisses. "I love you," she insisted.

Somehow they were on the bed and there were no kisses or touches, just her head pressed to his, and he was sobbing into her shoulder.

"I didn't know, I would never have…." She cried, her hands in his hair, and he clutched her around the waist.

"You don't do that to a person," he cried, "you don't! Not to their heart! You don't force a man to give it and then throw it away!"

"I know, I know, forgive me," she kept saying.

"Oh Belle, I do. I have to." Rumpelstiltskin's head was pressed against her chest now, she clutching him to her. "Will you forgive me?"

"Yes!" and then she kissed him again and again.

He broke away from her lips, buried his head in her neck. "I love you."

"Rumple," her breath hitched.

"Belle!" he exclaimed against her skin.

"RUMPLE!" No, she was not murmuring love she was pushing him off of her and shooting to her feet. He looked up and saw a very embarrassed Prince Charming in the entrance.

"Oh my gods," Belle turned to the wall instinctively, as though that would hide her.

"Uh… Oh… I mean …" Charming stumbled, "Oh sh-!" He pivoted, and bolted.

Rumpelstiltskin by now was also standing, following him into the main shop. The poor, stupid boy was fumbling with the door.

"I don't suppose you thought of ringing the bell?" Rumpelstiltskin called.

Charming let go of the handle, turning slowly. "I did," he said dryly.

"Oh." Now Rumpelstiltskin was almost embarrassed. Almost. "I see." He cleared his throat, "How can I help you?"

"It's Henry," Charming said. "He's been having more nightmares in the Red Room."

"Well now that's to be expected, what the boy's been through," Rumpelstiltskin commented.

"He's been seeing somebody there."

That caught his interest.

"I don't suppose you know anything about this?" Charming asked unnecessarily.

"I believe I might." Indeed. "Would you like me to come now?"

"No. Henry's already in bed. Maybe in the morning? Same as last time?"

Rumpelstiltskin bowed his head magnanimously. "Of course."

"Thank you," Charming said in that same grudging tone he always used when he said those words to him. He opened the door.

"Wait, dearie." Rumpelstiltskin was writing as he summoned him. "I suppose I don't need to ask for your discretion." He straightened, his eyes crackling as he held Charming's gaze. " I don't give a damn what people say about me, but I do care what they say about Belle."

"Of course," Charming looked down.

"And," Rumpelstiltskin added, "next time you have something you wish to speak with me about," he limped towards the prince, "send me a godsdamned text!" He slapped the card with his number in the younger man's hand and strode away into the back room without another word. The bell alerted him that Charming had left.

Belle was sitting on the bed, eyes averted. He sat by her, lifting her chin, brushing hair back from her face. Quite a blotchy mess, he must get tissues. He could only imagine what state he was in.

They shared the box, sitting side by side.

"You know, we can't," she blotted her eyes as she broke the silence; "we can't ever really finish it." Those blue eyes looked at him, entrancing him. "We love each other," she said simply.

And that was it. Rumpelstiltskin sighed. "Would tomorrow work for you? Hamburgers?"

Belle nodded with a relieved giggle and he pulled her into his arms, kissed her on the forehead. He heard her contented sigh, feeling rather than seeing her peaceful smile.

He'd failed for the fourth time.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Rumpelstiltskin woke with the light. He had slept in his pawnshop. The events of the night before had taken its toll. After agreeing to their hamburger date, he had walked Belle home, side by side, small talk, as though they had not just had a drag-out row followed by a snogging session worthy of a pair of teenagers, including the embarrassing interruption by Prince Charming. When he bade her goodnight, they had a goodnight kiss. Sweet, short, and chaste. Now he was stumbling to his coffee machine, and very well aware of his cell phone. He had given her the new number. There was unlimited texting. He was tempted.

He could text her.

Oh, dear gods. Had it come to that? Obsessing like a teenager about whether he should text? He stared at the phone. To hell with it. He was Rumplestiltskin, The Dark One. He'd do whatever he wanted.

_Morning, Belle. Have a lovely day. _

It had taken him about ten minutes of writing and rewriting before he pressed "send."

He started gathering his case together, carefully choosing what would be needed for Henry. He started

out and heard the beep. A text. He forced himself to casually pick up the phone.

It was from Belle.

_Thanks. You too._

He re-read it a few times. When he had thought her dead, how many times had he been willing to give his soul for one more conversation, one more minute with her? He was getting it now, his soul hinged on a few words of text. So be it. He paused long enough to set a special ringtone for her, and moved to his car.

He didn't really need to pass the library. He wasn't going to pass the library.

He passed the library.

Casually, just casually, glanced to see if the lights were on. Was she up? Was she sleeping in? He passed and steered toward Mary Margaret's.

Rumplestiltskin didn't need to pass the library on his return. He really was not going to do it this time. Hadn't he already had this conversation in his mind? He was stopped at a light. But maybe, well, it had been awhile since he'd listened to a book on tape. He often did that in his Cadillac. The library wasn't open yet, but then, surely Belle would make an exception.

It really had been a long time since he'd had a new audio book.

Within a minute he was parked outside the library.

But when he walked to the door, it was locked.

He went home, looking forward to seeing her tomorrow and wondering if he should text wishing her a good night.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter two.

It was fortunate that Rumplestiltskin had never been one much to rely on sleep. He was able to work all night on breaking the spell, and then get ready to see Belle. He regretted that he had never grown roses himself. A date required flowers, or at least a rose, considering his history with Belle. He walked about a block from Game of Thorns, and waited for somebody to do the job for him. He didn't have long to wait.

Frederick, knight of Midas turned gym teacher, approached walking at a brisk pace heading toward the flower store. Rumplestiltskin hailed him, "Stop teaching?"

"On a prep," Frederick answered, none too friendly.

"And getting flowers for your wife?"

Frederick didn't answer.

"I would like to ask a favor," Rumplestiltskin told him.

"No deal with you," the former knight moved past him.

Rumplestiltskin shot out a hand, stopping him, "No, not what you're thinking. I'm asking you. No deal. You'll owe me nothing." He continued trying his best to look benign as Frederick glared, "You're not the only one who's had a . . . romantic reunion since the curse broke, but as you know there was that pesky incident last Valentine's Day with the store's owner. I'll give you the money and you buy me a single rose."

Frederick's eyes squinted, appraising.

"For true love?" Rumplestiltskin asked.

"I'll take the money," Frederick conceded, "but give you exact change."

"Thank you," Rumplestiltskin was beginning to like him. "Not joining up with Charming?" he asked as he handed over the money.

"He hasn't asked," Frederick muttered and entered the store. After a few minutes he returned with the rose and change.

"Thank you, dearie. All the best for you and your love."

"My wife."

"Yes, of course," Rumplestiltskin bowed his head in acknowledgment.

Frederick nodded and moved away back to his classes. Rumplestiltskin got into his car and drove to the library.

Belle was sitting at the circulation desk waiting when he entered, one hand behind his back. She was wearing one of his favorite colors, gold. She stood up a little nervously and came around to him. He pulled the rose from behind his back, and was rewarded with a delighted grin that took his breath away.

"Thank you," she kissed him quickly, blushing.

Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat, strangely as shy as she. "Shall we go?" He gestured across the street to Granny's, and they began their first date.


End file.
